I’ve just hauled the piano out of the garage, where it’s been laid up for some years, and put it in the lounge. Out of tune and dusty as it is right now, miss couldn’t keep her hands off it and the house resounds to runs of wonderful if slightly hesitant “chopsticks”! It’s remarkable how alive the house becomes when live music is being played, as if it too loves the sound. Hopefully, with school out for a fortnight, it will soon get a good tuning up! Like houses with no books in view, houses without musical instruments feel (to me) as if something important is missing from the home.
Recently, we’ve been entertained by duelling blackbirds, in both the front and rear gardens. At this time of year the males fight each other for territory or perhaps for mates and it’s wonderfully thrilling to watch them in combat, beak to beak, wings all a-flutter in a black ball of fury. This morning though, as we came back from a walk about the village environs, I had the task of pulling a dead blackbird out of the pond. It appears it’s not all show and bluff bravado and, occasionally, there’s a loser (size large).